


Puck's Dream

by ifinkufreaky



Series: Puck's Dream [1]
Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Deepthroating, Dom/sub, Double Penetration in Two Holes, F/M, Facials, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 15:30:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15440124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifinkufreaky/pseuds/ifinkufreaky
Summary: Ivar’s girlfriend is annoyed when his brothers stop over during sexy time. Is she about to get one of her wildest fantasies realized, or is Ivar just testing her self-control?





	Puck's Dream

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EqualsTrashFlavoredTrash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EqualsTrashFlavoredTrash/gifts).



> this is written as a reader-insert, but I’m not certain I have written the Reader’s hair in a completely race-neutral way. This story comes from a dream Puck actually had about her own hair, so please forgive me if the details don’t fit for you… technically the story is about her ;) If you have any specific feedback for me about that, I am totally open.

There’s something different about Ivar tonight. You’d been seeing each other long enough for things to be starting to feel comfortable… as comfortable as being Ivar Lothbrok’s submissive could be, at least. But tonight you see an unusual fire in his eyes as he lays you down on the sofa in his apartment, and you feel a fresh hunger in his nipping teeth as he devours your skin while drawing your pants off your legs.

You want to pull the elastic from his hair and run your fingers through his long, dark tresses as he lays between your legs and kisses along the edge of your underwear, but he hasn’t given you permission for that yet. You dare to slide your fingertips along the silky crown of his head, but otherwise wait for further instructions.

You suck in a breath when Ivar runs his thumb heavily down the center of your seafoam green panties. “So wet for me,” he comments darkly. “These are already soaked through.” His mouth lunges to press against the spot, tantalizing you further with his hot breath.

A heavy knock at the door interrupts you, and you can’t keep yourself from making a frustrated whining noise. You’ve been looking forward to this all day; not only is the lingerie new, but you got a great haircut this morning and you are feeling fine as hell and ready to tease and please Ivar for hours. Whoever’s at the door, you hope it’s going to be quick.

You fix Ivar with a questioning look, but his face is enigmatic as he climbs off of you and looks for his cane. “Yeah?” he calls to whoever is on the other side of the thin apartment wall.

“Hold this!” Hvitserk demands as soon as Ivar opens the door, shoving a clinking paper bag into his chest. He angles his ass in through the door as he bends to tug his boots off, obeying one of Ivar’s absolute rules about coming over to his place.

Ivar juggles the awkward gift with his one free hand as he complains. “Really, Hvitserk, you brought a bag of loose bottles from your fridge?”

You can’t quite suppress your frown as your head pops up over the back of the couch. Ubbe is pushing in behind his brother, ice blue eyes lighting up as they land on you. “Hey, Y/N,” he says with that bright grin you’ve seen pull in plenty of girls on your nights out with the Lothbrok boys.

When Hvitserk’s eyes land on you too, you remember there was once a time when you weren’t certain which of the brothers you were most attracted to. At about the same time that you remember you’re currently not wearing any pants.

“Um, Ivar…” you say, ending the statement with a significant look, not wanting to chew him out in front of the guys.

Your boyfriend’s hand comes to the back of his neck, his wide mouth flashing lower teeth in the most adorable grimace as he looks over at you. “Looks like I double-booked my night, Button.” He shrugs at Ubbe and Hvitserk, who are both looking at you expectantly. “I told them they could watch the game over here.”

You tilt your head and pout at him.

Ivar struts back over to you, with that sexy way he handles his cane. He leans his head closer to yours. “I’ll make this worth it,” he promises.

Your breath catches, a passing thought that you don’t dare hope to be true flitting through your imagination.

You look down to the floor for your missing pants, hoping to be able to sneak them back on before Ivar’s brothers round the couch and mock you mercilessly. Ivar’s hand catches at the back of your head, freezing you in motion. “Do not put your pants back on,” he commands softly.

“Oh, did we interrupt something?” Hvitserk asks as he comes around to your side of the sofa, smirking at your bare legs. You press your knees together self-consciously as he crosses to sit on the loveseat opposite the TV.

“Nothing to worry about,” Ivar replies cheerily as he plops down next to you. He draws you in tight against his chest, under his arm. Then his other hand slides down over the side of your ass, below the edge of your hip that’s now covered only by thin green satin. You can’t tell if he’s feeling possessive or trying to show you off.

Ubbe passes you both open beer bottles before he settles down next to Hvitserk and picks up the remote. “Don’t mind us.”

“We won’t,” Ivar smirks, then starts nuzzling behind your ear.

“Ivar,” you giggle, pretending to bat him away even as that familiar ache starts between your thighs. He knows your kinks, and he knows exhibitionism is one of them. The idea that he might have invited Ubbe and Hvitserk over to watch you tonight, or at least that he wanted to show off for them a little bit right now…

His eyes are lusty when you look up at him, and he licks his playful lips while pulling your body tighter against his. When he kisses you, it’s even hungrier than before. You’re sure now that he planned this; the only question is how far he planned to take it.

His lips drop to your neck again, and his eager nips quickly turn to bites so hard you have to cry out. “Ivar!” you squeal as you twist in his arms.

“That is not how you address me.” His tone is unmistakeable; he’s using his dominant voice, and when his body goes still like this you know what happens if you disobey. Your stomach drops, and you peek at the other couch from the corner of your eye. Ubbe and Hvitserk are not looking at the television.

“Sir,” you whisper, correcting yourself. If Ivar’s brothers didn’t know you guys were into some kinky shit before, they sure do now.

“That’s better,” he chuffs. Your boyfriend leans over to set his untouched beer onto the coffee table, then studies your face carefully. It warms you to know he’s making sure that you’re ok with things so far. You’re not the kind of couple that has needed to heavily script your kinky play in advance so far, but consent is important to both of you. You know you can easily back out of this idea of his right now, if you like. But right now, you find you’re feeling so hot you wonder if your pussy has started soaking the couch yet. You’d love for all his brothers to watch Ivar order you around. Ubbe and Hvitserk are welcome.

With two fingers on your chin, he pushes your head back to rest against the couch. Then with the same gesture he draws you to spread your legs open wide. Wide enough for both his brothers to get an eyeful of that soaking strip of fabric that barely covers your sex. “I saw that pout you gave me, when Ubbe and Hvitserk walked in here,” Ivar says. “They are not going to interrupt us, Button. But you will let them look at whatever they want, yes?”

You moan and tremble, spreading your legs wider. You wonder if Ivar knows that you used to lust after his brothers too. That you absolutely want them all lusting after you. Ivar is breathing as heavily as you are when he draws you into another dizzyingly deep kiss. His hand slides up one of your thighs, down the other, keeping them wide. He runs his fingers up and down in between. You rock your hips into the heel of his hand. It’s not nearly enough.

He spanks your clit, a quick flick of his wrist. “Whose pussy is this.”

“Yours sir,” you breath, cheeks already feeling hot.

“Louder,” he commands, flicking you again.

“Ah! Yours, sir,” you call, closing your eyes now, unable to bear acting this way and looking at Ubbe or Hvitserk at the same time.

Another slap to your sex, almost hard enough to sting. “Again.”

“I’m yours, Ivar, sir!”

“That’s right.” His mouth covers yours again, and he catches your clit between his knuckles, rocking through the fabric, still just teasing you.

“I want to see her tits,” says Hvitserk, voice heavy with eagerness.

Ivar laughs a little at his brother, looking over at him from under his brows as he fondles the tits in question. He pinches one of your nipples before nudging you toward the middle of the room. “Strip for us.”

You almost regret telling Ivar every one of your dirtiest fantasies last week. This one seems a bit more overwhelming in real life. You waver just a little when you come to your feet, feeling incredibly self-conscious once you’re standing before them all.

“Would you feel better if you were on my lap while you did it?” Ivar offers softly, sensing you’re getting close to a limit.

Your smile sparkles through a relieved exhale as you meet his softening eyes. “Yes.”

Ivar lays back along the length of the couch. The tent in his pants is very evident as he reclines fully. He beckons you to come straddle it with an open hand.

You only have to look at him, this way. You settle your hips down over Ivar’s, indulging yourself in a few soft rolls of your pussy against the long shaft of his erection. Riding him slowly, you pull the hem of your shirt up, up, up, flicking your eyes over to his brothers only at the last second before the garment crosses your face as you tug it off over your head. Hvitserk sits at rapt attention, leaning forward with his lips slightly parted. Ubbe’s sitting back, legs spread wide, his beer bottle casually resting on one knee as his eyes glitter from under the brim of his cap.

The seafoam green bra matches the panties, its elegant trim enhancing your natural curves. You’re doubly, triply glad that you bothered to put on something new for this evening as you writhe above Ivar, looking down at your tits along with everyone else, making sure you’re arching your back to their best advantage.

“Do you want to come like this, Button?” Ivar asks, fingers already sliding under the edge of your panties. “So beautifully on display for everyone?”

You nod vigorously, but Ivar lifts his dark brows expectantly and waits for your words. “Yes, sir,” you finally moan.

His fingers work quickly; he knows just what you like. You’re worried at first that he will get angry if you look at his brothers too often, but their hungry stares are hard to ignore, and you feel freer once it becomes clear Ivar only wants you to enjoy all of this. You catch Ubbe adjusting himself in his pants and you all but swoon as you imagine what he’s gripping.

Hvitserk’s hand reaches out toward your heaving chest as you rock yourself over Ivar’s fingers, and the erection bouncing occasionally against you from below. Ivar bats his brother away irritably.

“Pop her tits out,” Hvitserk requests. Ivar nods up at you, so you slide your hands up your body and fold the cups of your bra down, scooping out each nipple in turn for them to look at. The heat in Hvitserk’s face is almost comical as he sighs and all but sits on his hands after that.

You’re going to come soon. Ivar can tell, too, and speeds the expert work of his hand. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, to be reaching orgasm with so many handsome faces fixed on you and the motion of your body. Your face feels as hot as your cunt as the pleasure finally explodes out of you, crushing Ivar’s fingers and ripping a squealing sound from your throat as your head tosses back. The squeaks continue to escape you as Ivar forces your pleasure to keep rolling on.

Refusing to open your eyes for a while afterwards, you roll your body languidly over Ivar’s hand until he has every last trembling bit of the orgasm out of you.

“Fuck,” you hear Ubbe’s voice say, soft and curt and awed and wanting.

“Enjoying the show?” Ivar laughs. He pulls you down to lie alongside him, hiding between his body and the back of the couch for a moment. “That was just her warm-up.” He kisses you on the cheek and then sits up, sliding away until he’s perched on the arm of the sofa. “What you really need to see is how well she sucks dick.”

If the sound of Hvitserk’s soft groan at those words didn’t perk you back up from your post-orgasmic haze, Ivar’s eager growl as he tugs you none too gently to the floor before him certainly does. He sweeps your salon-styled hair away from your face with one hand while unbuckling his belt with the other.

You take a deep, shaky breath. Getting on your knees in front of Ivar feels like a sacrament, and you focus on preparing yourself. Your mouth almost waters as he pulls that smooth, thick meat from the dark fabric that binds it.

He presses himself quickly between your lips, the slightest moan tinging his exhale as you take him as far as you can in one go. His fingers weave through your freshly-washed hair and you wonder if he likes how short it is now. Ivar finds a grip on the back of your head and guides you to bob up and down over him, faster and faster.

You almost forget Ubbe and Hvitserk are watching, now that you can’t see them. You’re lost in the effort of submission, relaxing your jaw and opening yourself to Ivar as he fucks your face just how he likes. You prepare yourself for a spurt of salty cum to the back of your throat when you feel his movements get jerky, but he surprises you by pulling away.

You look up at him in confusion; there is an almost manic light in his eyes as he looks down at you and grips around the base of his own shaft, the other hand still clenched in the roots of your hair. As he strokes himself quickly and purposefully, you understand. Ivar wants to paint his claim to you all over your face.

“Open your mouth,” he says between panting breaths. “Try to catch as much of it as you can, my eager little slut.”

You flatten your tongue and open your mouth prettily, though his hand in your hair doesn’t give you too much free movement to follow the bobbing of his cock. You’ll just have to hope for the best.

Ivar sucks in a breath, then holds it long enough that you know he’s about to blow. With a guttural groan the white spurts come streaming toward your face; you close your eyes and lick at the air, hoping to do well for him. Warm globs hit your cheek, your tongue… and one, to your horror, lands right on top of your perfect new hair.

Still, you remain frozen as he comes down. One of his rules: he wants to be able to inspect what he’s done, before you can move. You don’t feel anything over your eyelids so at least it’s safe to open up and look at him.

Deep satisfaction etches the corners of his eyes, but Ivar doesn’t look like all the fire is out of him just yet, either. “You look so pretty all mussed up like that, my good girl.” He wipes his cock on your cheek and then tucks it away. After one more long look he scoots back down to the couch cushion, then tugs on your arm for you to resume your seat too. “Isn’t she lovely?” he asks his brothers.

Hvitserk grunts his agreement, and Ubbe raises his beer bottle. Clearly, admitting they have been one-upped by their brother is just the price they have to pay for the show you gave them. They don’t seem to mind it much.

Some of Ivar’s seed starts to trickle down your face, and you lift your hand to wipe it away. “No,” Ivar said, catching your wrist firmly. “Leave it. I want you just like this while we watch the rest of the game.”

This… this was the part of subbing that you weren’t as thrilled about. After about five minutes, most of the arousal has leaked from the room, and the drying jizz on your skin is starting to itch. You can’t stop thinking about it getting stuck in your _hair_ , that you’ve been so proud of today. Of course you are within your rights to tell Ivar you aren’t having fun anymore, but you try to put that off as long as you can, see if he has an endgame for this humiliation before it turns into just an annoyance.

You keep looking at him. Ivar meets your eyes with an even, dryly amused gaze, focus flitting from one messy portion of your face to another. But no further games, no more comments, nothing to keep you interested or to distract you from the aggravation of your ruined hair.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” you finally announce. All the boys seem interested in the screen for once, though when you stand and everyone remembers you’re still just in your bra and panties, several pairs of eyes float after your retreat.

Ivar’s bathroom is epic; possibly the main reason he’s leasing this particular apartment. The whole place is tiled in dark stone, and while there’s a sink and toilet along one wall, the rest of the room resembles a giant shower, with several waterfalling jets positioned at various angles in two walls, and a drain in the center of the floor. A bench made to look like reddish wood sits under the biggest showerhead, with matching shelves attached to the tile arranged attractively around the space. You always feel like you’re in a high-end spa when you come in here.

The peaceful smile that comes to your face tugs at the dried jizz Ivar coated you with. You think again about how it must be crusting in your perfect hair, and finally you just can’t resist stripping down and turning the water on. You have to get it out. How bad could your punishment be?

The water quickly steams up the room, warming your body and perfectly complimenting the afterglow of that absolutely-fucking hot scene you and Ivar just finished. You feel like you might still be trembling from the intensity of it: the way Ivar looked at you in possessive triumph as he came, the lust in his brothers’ eyes as they scoured your body… you shampooed your hair quickly, absently pondering getting yourself off again as soon as you finished rinsing, just to enjoy the memories. You already know you’re going to imagine things going further with the other guys, and you wonder if Ivar even intends to build up to that, eventually. He knows you’re interested in group sex, and you know he has said he’s not opposed to sharing you one day.

The sound of the door opening interrupts your daydreaming. You spin with your hands instinctively covering your nakedness, only to see Hvitserk and Ubbe prowling in. Dark grins are spread across their faces, and they are already shedding their clothes.

“What the fuck!” you exclaim, though your cunt is throbbing for them.

Hvitserk is the one to explain, with his deceptively reasonable voice: “We heard the shower. Ivar said that if you can’t take orders, then you’re going to have to take two more cocks.” You can see how ready he is to enact your punishment when he drops the rest of his clothing to the ground.

As he and Ubbe both come fully through the door you can see Ivar behind them, leaning on his cane and smirking. The bastard knows everything. He knows exactly what you want, and has orchestrated a way for you to get it while he remains firmly in control of the context.

“Seriously, Ivar?” you still have to ask.

He can see that you are ready to play along. “You brought this on yourself,” Ivar reminds you, shaking his head like he’s disappointed. He waves Ubbe and Hvitserk forward.

The elder brother reaches you first, pressing his dense bicep into your back as he curls his arm around your body. “Have you ever done double penetration?” Ubbe asks. When you’re too shocked to reply immediately, he bends his head and licks water off your collarbone.

Hvitserk bounces in front of you, taking your face in his hands. “We’re really good at that,” he volunteers.

Ubbe’s erection presses against the back of your hip as you look one more time to Ivar for mercy. He only snickers at you from under thick brows, motioning you to get on with it. He knows you’ll use your safeword if you truly have a problem with this.

“Do I really need a punishment, Ivar?” you whine prettily, not expecting it to work but enjoying the game. “I just wanted to keep my new hair nice. I wasn’t trying to defy you!”

Ubbe fists his hand in said hair, pulling your head back so that you have to look at him instead of your boyfriend. “I noticed the cut, it’s not bad, I have to say.” He tugs at your roots again. “But I’m glad you kept it long enough to pull.”

His rugged face is so close. You had thought when you had chosen Ivar you would never get to be here like this, naked in Ubbe’s arms…

Hvitserk interrupts your thoughts, sliding his hands up your thighs and belly, closing them softly over the peaks of your breasts. “You are so fucking sexy,” he intones, groaning your name as he rubs his cock against the front of your thigh. The soft raindrops of the steaming shower make this all feel very much like a dream. “Do you want us?” His lips tickle along your throat where Ubbe’s grip has bared it to him.

“Yes,” you whisper, eyes traveling down the plane of Ubbe’s cheekbone, body drinking in the sensation of being pressed between their eager cocks.

Ubbe’s been trying to play the part of enforcer, looking tough and impassive, but at the sound of your explicit consent his face cracks into a genuine smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he bends in to kiss you on the mouth. He tastes like stout beer and his beard leaves your face tingling.

Meanwhile, Hvitserk dives into your tits, holding both of them up and rubbing his face from one nipple to the other.

“Finally got what you wanted,” you tease him.

Hvitserk looks up, clear eyes capturing yours as he straightens to come closer to your face, hands still covering your breasts and strumming at your nipples. “I love your tits, Y/N, but that’s just the beginning of what I want.” You can’t stop yourself from lunging forward to kiss his tantalizing lips. It’s hard to appreciate suddenly getting so much of what you’ve always wanted, but you try to slow down time as much as you can and enjoy.

Ubbe’s palm slides down over your asscheek, fingertips poised to probe in between. “We do have a job to do,” he reminds you and Hvitserk. “Let’s warm her up.” His fingertip finds the little rosebud of your anus, and he massages it gently, rolling his pressure in little circles. “I need her relaxed if I’m going to fit.”

“She loosens up quickly,” Ivar volunteers. He has shut the door to keep the heat in and now leans against it, watching the scene from out of range of the shower water. “Her ass has been trained.”

Your last Dom had taken you through some pretty intense anal training, and over the past few weeks Ivar had been renewing your lessons pretty thoroughly. You had thought it was just a big fetish of his, but now you’re wondering how long he’d been planning to set his brothers up to do this to you.

From the way Ivar holds his lower lip between his teeth as his eyes glitter, it’s already clear that he loves to watch their hands on you; Ivar might be as eager to see you get wrecked by two cocks at once as you are to feel it.

Ubbe draws you to lean against his chest while he works your back door gently; Hvitserk hands him a bottle of lube and soon Ubbe’s finger is swirling softly inside your asshole. No matter how many times someone touches you there, it never feels any less intense. The sensation that you’re letting Ivar’s brother do something absolutely filthy to your body makes you moan and hum, which only encourages him to press deeper, open you wider. And when Hvitserk returns his mouth to your breast, finds your clit with his clever fingers…

“You’re right, Ivar,” Ubbe rumbles, voice tinged with that deep masculine tone that says a guy’s about to tear you apart, “she’s so ready for this. We won’t even need the vibrator.” He adds a second finger and starts to fuck in and out, as you focus on welcoming the intensity.

Your eyes are torn away from the haughty curl to Ivar’s eager smile when Hvitserk takes your chin in his hand and presses a kiss to your lips. His other hand leaves your clit and glides to your pussy, plumbing that depth with two long fingers. “Ready on this end, too,” he informs the group as you gasp and clutch at him for balance, unable to focus on anything else but the twin invasions between your legs.

“You’re already a mess, aren’t you Button?” Ivar observes. Then, to the boys: “give her any more and she’ll start squeaking like a dog toy.”

Ubbe chuckles in your ear. “I’m sure we’ll get there.”

“Lift her up, or lay her down?” Hvitserk asks.

Ubbe works his finger out of your ass as he hums a contemplative noise. “Let’s not overwhelm her too much on her first ride. We’ll use the bench.”

Ubbe heads over to the long, low wooden stand, pulling it a little away from the wall and adjusting the shower jets where he wants them. Hvitserk keeps caressing you while you wait for Ubbe to finish setting up, one hand spreading all over your body as the other resumes steadily batting across your swollen clit. Ubbe lays down on his back, hips toward the bottom of the bench and feet on the ground. He beckons you over with pure sin in his eyes as he spreads lubricant up and down his bobbing erection.

“This is the hardest part, but you’ll be fine,” Hvitserk whispers in your ear, working your clit faster as you stare down at the size of Ubbe’s cock. He brings you over to stand between Ubbe’s knees with your back to him, starts guiding you to sit down over his length.

“No, turn around, Button,” Ivar interrupts. “I want to be able to see your face, while Hvitserk pounds into your ass.” You shiver as you comply, knowing that if you do it this way it will feel even more intense once they get going. “Don’t worry,” Ivar adds, “you can take it.”

Ubbe seems to roll easily with the change in plan. He reaches up to steady you as you step over his hips to straddle him. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to sink my cock in you, Y/N?” he asks softly, guiding you to lean over his chest and kiss him again before you start to take his length.

He rubs his tip, slick with lube, up and down your opening, even circling your clit with it. When you try to rear up in pleasure, his hand clamps on to the back of your neck, forcing your faces to stay close together while he slides himself into your pussy.

Once his head is in, you press back slowly, enjoying the feeling of swallowing him up. He’s wide and fairly long and you’re a little glad he’s not the one that’s going to be in your ass tonight. Ubbe’s mouth drops but his eyes stay fixed on yours as he savors every inch of your progress, which seems to go on forever before you hit the end. You roll your hips a little for him and he groans. “Better than I even imagined.”

You two fuck softly for a minute, forgetting everyone else, until Hvitserk’s hands start spreading your ass cheeks. Ivar’s closer too, and he has gotten down onto the floor so that he can see your face as you bend over Ubbe to give Hvitserk the right angle for entry. “Are you ready, Button?” he asks, nodding to Hvitserk. “This is what bad girls get.”

Hvitserk pushes at the center of your back, squishing you abruptly against Ubbe’s chest. You expect his cock but get a slap instead, the sting across your right cheek quickly mirrored on the left. You manage not to cry out but Ubbe groans through his teeth in your ear; your pussy must have clenched around him when you braced yourself against the blows.

“Four more, Hvitserk,” Ivar instructs, “and then you can have her ass however you like.” Your boyfriend’s sadistic grin looms close to your panting mouth. “She can take it whatever way you want to give.”

Hvitserk spaces his strikes out over your skin, leaving everything thrumming and warm. Ubbe’s rocking softly beneath you so you can’t forget how full you already are, the angle low enough to put pressure on your clit too and keep you desperate for more.

Lubed fingers swirl against your asshole, making sure you’re still relaxed and worked open. You close your eyes and focus on surrender as the tip of Hvitserk’s cock presses in, Ubbe’s soft bouncing helping to ease his brother inside.

It feels good and bad at the same time; an odd mix of threat and pleasure that never feels wholly comfortable no matter how often you have experienced it. You sob before Hvitserk is fully in, and welcome Ubbe’s arms around you, comforting and grounding as you submit to the experience.

You open your eyes and Ivar’s brilliant blues are there, blazing with pleasure at seeing you so overcome. “That’s it. You are going to take all of it for me, aren’t you.”

You nod helplessly, body bucking over Ubbe’s as Hvitserk starts fucking in and out. You feel impossibly full, and when the brothers find an alternating rhythm you could swear they are hollowing you out.

“There’s the squeaky toy,” Hvitserk chuckles above you, and you realize you’ve fully lost control of the noises you’re making again. The more excited he gets, the harder he wants to thrust, and the more he asks from your ass. Ubbe bucks up into your pussy like the thumping bassline to Hvitserk’s lead, and you don’t need any stimulation to your clit this time to feel yourself coming all around them.

Ivar knows that face. “She’s close; don’t either of you dare come before her.” His voice drops. “Give it to us; show me what a good girl you can be.”

You scream through your teeth when you come, the intensity almost impossible to ride out. Your body milks them both as wave after wave hits you; each time you think you’re done coming someone moves and the pleasure rolls over again.

“Fuck,” you finally exclaim, when you feel like you’ve had enough.

“You think your punishment is done?” Ivar asks. He’s gotten hard again, and strokes himself through his pants. “You just couldn’t wait to be clean,” he hisses, head shaking as he gets up, leaning on his cane to cross to the big handle that controls the showers. “Now we’re going to make an even bigger mess of you.” He turns the water off then goes back to handling his dick. “We’re gonna paint you from all sides.”

You yelp as Hvitserk pounds your ass even more relentlessly, then squeak again as he pulls himself out abruptly. Warm cum squirts all over your back a split second later as you convulse over Ubbe’s cock.

“Stay right there,” Ubbe says, placing your hands on either side of the bench to hold your body up over his. He lifts your hips just enough to be able to pull himself out. “Straighten your legs and arch your back.”

Your tits are in his face as Ubbe grasps himself and starts pumping, the tip of his cock rubbing against your belly. His face turns red and he scoots back until his dick is centered under your chest. “Fuuuck” he groans in one long syllable, then streaks of white shoot all over your tits, even as you feel Hvitserk’s seed start to drip around your ribs.

As soon as he’s done, Ivar pulls Ubbe out of the way, sits at the top of the bench himself. “And now,  Button,” he unbuttons his pants, “you suck me off again, all soaked in their cum and thoroughly fucked.”

You drop your head and suck Ivar into your mouth greedily, as soon as he’s freed his cock. Your man has just given you an epic fulfillment of one of your wildest fantasies, and you are eager to pay him back as well as you can. He has to coax you to slow down, give you time to feel the evidence of every defilement that just happened to your body as you suck at his shaft, circle your tongue around his head like you know he likes.

When he’s getting close, Ivar pulls at the back of your head, driving you to take him deeper, until you fall to your knees to get a better angle for opening your throat. He’s not being as careful as usual, and you realize since you’re already in the shower he’s probably more willing to risk making you throw up if he hits your gag reflex wrong. But Ivar can have anything he wants tonight.

Tears come to your eyes when his thrusting cock chokes off your breathing, but the rushing in your ears isn’t loud enough to cover the roar Ivar makes as he reaches his climax. He pulls out of you almost as fast as Hvitserk did, already spurting as he angles your face to take its second coating of the night. You’re a sputtering, tear-stained mess, but you know that’s a sight Ivar loves to see.

You both stay still and just pant for a while, staring into each others’ eyes. Ubbe and Hvitserk are gone, the shower door closed again. It’s just you and your man now.

You are the first to smile, a lazy, satisfied grin. “Come up,” Ivar says softly, pulling you onto the bench and into his arms. You rest your head in the hollow between his shoulder and chest, and he strokes your back softly with an approving hum. “You did so good for me,” he whispers into the top of your head. “That was amazing. Fuck, Button.” He trails off, voice soft now, the intimidating Dom persona let down for now.

He reaches back, turns on the warm water. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

The shower of water feels so good on your skin, just as warm as Ivar’s embrace. You nuzzle into him a little deeper, loathe to let him go and almost too exhausted to move. The fabric of his dress shirt makes a soft sound against your ear.

You stiffen. “Ivar. The water. Your clothes are still on.”

“So they are.”

You want to tell him not to mess up his clothes for you, but if he doesn’t care, he doesn’t care. The damage is done anyway.

“This is not the time for you to worry about me,” he reminds you. “Your punishment is complete. You got through it beautifully. Now, just relax, and let me care for you.”

He holds you up with both hands, turning your back this way and that under the gentle waterfall of the main showerhead, cleansing the evidence of Hvitserk off your back. He directs you to lay down on the bench and then he takes the handle of the showerhead off the wall, directing the stream slowly and lovingly over every inch of your skin below the neck, washing away Ubbe’s mess too.

He opens your legs gently, admiring the view before directing the water there. His breath sucks in just a little. “I told them not to come inside you,” he says, annoyed. “But Hvitserk has never been one to listen.” Ivar runs the water down the back of one thigh and then directs it squarely at your back door. Now you understand why Hvitserk pulled out of you so abruptly; he must not have quite made it in time. Self-control had never been his strong suit. Ivar continues to complain. “He can be such an asshole.”

You can’t hold back a giggle. “An asshole in my asshole,” you quip. A grin cracks Ivar’s face too, though he tries to look disappointed in you for such a terrible joke. “It’s alright, I’m not mad,” you reassure him.

“Rules are rules,” Ivar replies firmly. “There were very _specific_ conditions under which they were allowed to touch what is mine—”

“I know,” you interrupt, catching his hand and making sure to hold his gaze. “I’m just telling you I don’t feel offended, or disrespected. You can feel however you like about the mistake of course, but to me,” you shrug, “it’s a bit of a compliment.” Ivar’s face starts to relax under your reassurance. “Not everyone can have the iron will and absolute control that you do.”

Now his smirk is back. “This is true.” He angles the stream of water higher, warming your entire vulva and making your overstimulated nerves tingle anew. “For example, I wonder if I could make you beg for me one more time tonight…” he pulls back your labia, targeting your buried clitoris with the heated stream.

“Please, no,” you yelp, squirming away from his devilish intent. “See, you’ve already got me to beg. You win. I can’t take any more right now.”

Ivar feigns a pout but pulls the showerhead further away, reducing the intensity of the stimulation as he finishes cleansing every inch of you. “Very well, Button.” He looks up at your face, insecurity flashing across his features just briefly as he articulates the next question. “Are you staying the night?”

“Yes,” you say, as warmly as you can in your depleted state. Sometimes you find it hard to believe you’re still wanted after the sex is done, too. “I need to hold you all night, after that.”

Ivar’s poise melts a little further, and he presses a firm kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Then let’s get ready for bed. I’ll let you rest, and then I’ll wring a few more out of you tomorrow morning,” he promises. “No matter how many times and how many ways I make you come, Button, I never seem to feel I’ve had enough.”


End file.
